God's Gonna Cut You Down
by AgressiveNegotiations
Summary: You can run on for a long time, but sooner or later God'll cut you down.  Songfic


**Hi there. =) Sorry for my absence. I've been in Italy the past month, and I just got back. In fact, I wrote this on the plane ride home. Do you know how uncomfortable it is to write something while the lady next to you is reading it over your shoulder? But that's besides the point.**

**This story is based on the song "God's Gonna Cut You Down" by Johnny Cash**

**I'm not sure if this came out quite as good as I imagined it would have. I really hope I lived up to this song. It's one of my favorites of all time, and it has always reminded me of Boone. If you don't know it, you should seriously go look it up. It's badass. **

**Anyway, love you all. And don't forget to review! It means the world to me! =3  
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><p><em>You can run on for a long time<br>Run on for a long time  
>Run on for a long time<br>Sooner or later God'll cut you down  
>Sooner or later God'll cut you down<em>

Boone stared into the fire below the dinosaur silently. It was late at night, as it always was when he went outside. He didn't go out in the day anymore. He hated how the other citizens of Novac would always stare at him. It was a poor excuse for shutting himself out of everyone's life, he knew that. Truth was, he didn't have a reason to go out anymore. No more First Recon, no more Carla, no more Manny. The only reason he even left his hotel room was to be the nightly guard for the small defenseless town. His life had become worthless. Nothing but a eternal punishment for his sins. The hate, the anger... it never left. He couldn't escape. He shut his eyes as if trying to forget, but the fire was still in his mind. Burning endlessly.

_Go tell that long tongue liar_  
><em>Go and tell that midnight rider<em>  
><em>Tell the rambler, the gambler, the back biter<em>  
><em>Tell 'em that God's gonna cut 'em down<em>  
><em>Tell 'em that God's gonna cut 'em down<em>

_Well my goodness gracious let me tell you the news_  
><em>My head's been wet with the midnight dew<em>  
><em>I've been down on bended knee, talkin' to the man from Galilee<em>  
><em>He spoke to me in the voice so sweet<em>  
><em>I thought I heard the shuffle of the angel's feet<em>  
><em>He called my name and my heart stood still<em>  
><em>When he said, "John, go do My will!"<em>

She focused on the campfire in front of her intensely. She had made base outside the small town of Novac, where the woman at the saloon had told her the man in the checkered coat was headed. No doubt he was long gone by now, but she could still ask around for information about where he was stopping next. But she'd have to wait until morning. Nobody in town would be awake at this late hour.

She looked back into the fire. It was the only light in the eerily dark night. Before, things like this wouldn't have had an effect on her. But now, after all that had happened, she felt like everything was a symbol. A sign that she was called for a higher purpose. She damn well knew that she should have died in that shallow grave. The scar on her temple was a constant reminder. Yet somehow, she pulled through. A miracle, maybe. But she had a feeling it was more than that. God wasn't finished with her yet. Nobody gets a second chance that easy.

_You can run on for a long time  
>Run on for a long time<br>Run on for a long time  
>Sooner or later God'll cut you down<br>Sooner or later God'll cut you down_

_Well you may throw your rock and hide your hand_  
><em>Workin' in the dark against your fellow man<em>  
><em>But as sure as God made black and white<em>  
><em>What's done in the dark will be brought to the light<em>

That damn fire was still going. He could swear it was mocking him, a metaphor for his internal struggle. Someone ought to go down there and put it out.

Boone couldn't help but reach for his rifle and pull the scope up to his eye. He peered through to get a closer look. It was a poorly made campfire with empty whiskey bottles surrounding it. Next to the fire was a small, dark silhouette. Boone focused in more, trying to get a better view. From what he could tell, it was just a traveler, most likely on their way to Vegas. Anger suddenly flared up in him. This person was the one who had created the fire. They made him remember the loneliness and hate. They made him remember Carla.

He drew a bead on the top of the silhouette. He watched for a moment as it moved slightly, as if it had felt his very presence. It was dark out, nobody would see it. Nobody would wonder. The wasteland was a dangerous place. Maybe this was the revenge he was looking for. The answer to his misery. Boone took a deep breath in and put his finger on the trigger.

He didn't move.

Who said this person was just as miserable as him. Maybe they had a family to feed, people to take care of. Killing this person would make him no better than the Legion. He'd be just another mindless killer, taking everything good for their own gain. He couldn't be that. He had to fight that. He had to bring that to justice. But the fire was still there.

_You can run on for a long time  
>Run on for a long time<br>Run on for a long time  
>Sooner or later God'll cut you down<br>Sooner or later God'll cut you down_

_Go tell that long tongue liar_  
><em>Go and tell that midnight rider<em>  
><em>Tell the rambler, the gambler, the back biter<em>  
><em>Tell 'em that God's gonna cut you down<em>  
><em>Tell 'em that God's gonna cut you down<em>  
><em>Tell 'em that God's gonna cut you down<em>

The fire danced like a performer on a stage. After a while of staring at it, it had begun to take shapes and sing to her. Sometimes it would get close to her face as if trying to whisper to her. Then it would pull back, keeping it's secrets to itself. Maybe it was trying to lure her in so that it could devour her like the rest of the wasteland so badly wanted to.

Or maybe it was just the whiskey.

She had no idea what time it was. The moon was slowly fading behind the mountains. That meant that soon it'd be sunrise. Then she'd have to go into town. Generally, she'd dread the thought of having to leave her safe camp and go back into the world of greedy liars that seemed to be everywhere she went. But this time, something was different. She didn't know what, but it was. Another sign. God was trying to tell her to hang on. Someone out there was waiting for her. Someone needed her help. It was the least she could do. After all, she had been given the opportunity of a lifetime. It was her job to pay it forward.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement up by the top of the dinosaur. A flash of some kind, like glass reflecting off the fire. She'd have to go up there in the morning to check it out. But until then, she'd wait here.

She was just a tool, just a extension of His hand. It was her job to bring justice and life, just as He had done for her. She would do what she had to to repay her debt. Because no gift can last forever. And she knew that sooner or later, God would cut her down.


End file.
